The dragon shivered and opened his eyes with a gasp, exhaling a combination of ash and fog. It was cold, too cold forâ€¦ wherever he had been. He remembered warm air, loud music, bright lights, and all the other extravagancies of human city life. He thought, anyway; it all felt like a dream, and was twice as hard to remember.

He stared up at the dangling hunk of meat above him and felt his stomach churn for reasons he didnâ€™t understand. It was beef, by the looks of it. Nothing that horrifying, and yet he fought off the urge to vomit partially out of fear that he would exhale a massive gout of flame. Dragons did that, right? He looked himself over. Too tall for the freezer he was in, shirtless, and wearing a pair of jeans that hardly fought off the cold, he certainly wasnâ€™t human. A flex of his shoulder muscles brought the oddly familiar feeling of his wings trying to stretch in too small a space, and his tail lashed in frustration with a loud clang against the metal wall of the icebox.

A dragon, then. That felt right, anyway. He rolled a bit to the side and tried to stand, but just halfway out of a crouch he slammed his head into the ceiling, thankful for the bony protrusions on the back of his skull. â€œGreat.â€

He felt his pockets, feeling a small, flat object in one. He dug it out; a fold out wallet, absent of everything but an ID and a police badge. He squinted and huffed in frustration at the low light, shuffling around the dangling meat, which still made him nauseous, to the single lightbulb in the freezer to read the frosted-over ID. â€œMaccus Boughbreaker.â€ he rumbled, looking himself over again. â€œHeight fourteen feet, weightâ€¦ heavy, black and gold complexion. Seems like me.â€ he muttered. He repeated the name to himself until it felt familiar.

He flicked the gold badge with his claw, and the sound of his claw hitting the metal sounded familiar. â€œDetective.â€ he muttered. â€œSounds a bit to haughty for me, I guess.â€ he continued, looking around for the seam of a door. Maccusâ€™ head throbbed. He wondered if heâ€™d been drugged; he couldnâ€™t recall anything before he woke up beyond that he had not been here, certainly. â€œCalm down, just get out of the freezer and find out where you are.â€ he coaxed himself, sliding his hands around the icy wall until he found the hinge of the door. â€œNo handleâ€¦â€ he sighed, stepping back a bit. His frustrated breath elicited an exhalation of a small burst of flame that steamed when it hit the icy door.

Maccus flexed his claws and tensed his arms, feeling the rippling strength of well worked muscle under his scales. â€œMaybe I donâ€™t need a handle.â€ he wondered taking a step back before throwing the entirety of his weight behind his shoulder and impacting the door with a solid, and loud, clang that sent it barreling of its hinges and across the room outside, and through a wall.

Struggling to his feet, but finding the room too small, Maccus was surprised to find himself in the kitchen of a restaurant. Well, what had been a kitchen, and had been a restaurant; the door had torn it up quite a bit. He picked his way through the wreckage, noting how powerfully silent the place was, not a soul to be heard or seen anywhere. Mac walked out onto a balcony and cussed under his breath in wonder.

Here he was on what felt like the top of the world, a penthouse restaurant in a large skyscraper that overlooked a gorgeous, if not apparently vacant city. Stoplights changed, and the streetlights snapped on as the sun dipped behind another large building far in the distance in time with a loud chime. â€œThe time is now eight in the evening. Again, the Ivy City commissionerâ€™s office would like to thank you for attending the grand opening of our first-of-its kind resort city here on the beautiful Laurel Island. Enjoy the warm days, the chilly nights, and all the amenities you could dream of. Here in Ivy City we strive to be sure you never, ever want to leave.â€ blared through the city streets, echoing in the quiet.

Maccus let out another shiver as a gust of wind rolled over him, coupled with a rustling behind him. Whirling around, he never noticed the ethereal figure hunched on the roof above him, even after it solidified into an alien, armored form. Instead, the dragon bent down and retrieved the source of the rustling, a folded sheet of paper with another police badge atop it, this one with a chain attached. He slipped the badge around his neck and unfolded the paper to find a simple, if cryptic pair of phrases:

BLESSED ARE THE MEEKFEAR THE SOUND OF HOOVES

Maccus fought the overwhelming feeling of dread that washed over him as the blaring message in the streets let out another chime. â€œHave a great night, and welcome, again, to Ivy City.â€

~~

His body felt like a poorly microwaved dinner; hot on the outside and cold on the inside, and decidedly numb all the same. It was unpleasant in a way that he could not relate to anything else, mostly because he couldnâ€™t remember anything at all.

In fact, he had no idea how long heâ€™d been laying here, staring at a neatly arranged pattern of bowling pins reflected in the polished wood floor in front of his face. He remembered feeling a heavy, dull thud on his back once before, but as a heavy weight impacted between his shoulders and skidded him forward a bit, he finally became aware of some jabbering voices.

â€œâ€¦Angliiskii?â€ he murmured before, unceremoniously, he received a sharp crack across the head that prompted a yelp, and with that yelp came a terrible cracking sound and a bright light. He heard yelling and the sound of feet running away as the lights snapped offâ€¦ wherever he was.

He wasnâ€™t sure how long it had been before heâ€™d heard anyone else, but he couldnâ€™t move. Everything hurt; that cold feeling inside him was heavy like metal even though his body felt like it was screaming at him to move. He mustâ€™ve fallen asleep, but eventually he felt a clawed hand gently rest on his cheek, and when it was held in front of his muzzle to check his breath he could see sandy colored fur. The hand retracted and squeezed his shoulder a gently before slipping something in his pocket.

He could have sworn he heard someone say he was sorry.

After that, he was sure he slept until a bright light in his face woke him back up. â€œHey chico, shhhhâ€¦â€ the voice behind the light cooed; gravely and feminine, tinged with some concern. The light vanished with a small click, leaving him blinking away spots. â€œSorry about the light, had to make sure you were responsive.â€ the voice continued, strong, but gentle hands prodded his ribs and his abdomen, carefully rolling him onto his back.

He let her check him over as his eyes adjusted to the light. A vixen, young but mature, leaned over him, engrossed in her actions. He winced a bit as she pinched him and let go. â€œHow long have you been laying here? Youâ€™re dehydrated.â€ she asked. â€œDo you remember anything.â€

He went to speak and merely coughed through his dry throat for a moment, watching her patient face. â€œAngliiskiiâ€¦ English is myâ€¦ not my first language. I understand though, da?â€ he replied, trying to smile and shivering at how his lips stung with the movement. "I have been here a long time.â€

â€œSo I thought, my little ruskie chico.â€ She sighed. â€œIf you lean on me, we can walk out of here just fine. Do you remember your name?â€ she asked, shifting him to a slumped, seated position. â€œIâ€™ll explain more once I get some food and drink into you, but we donâ€™t really want to be on the streets long in this part of town.â€ she continued, using surprising strength to hoist him to his feet, tucking him under her arm a bit.

â€œBut where-â€œ he started before coughing again.

â€œLater, I promise. My name is Roxxie.â€ the vixen explained, one hand snaking into each of his pockets before retrieving a slip of paper and a small, plastic card. â€œAh, he always leaves one of these. Found your name, lilâ€™ guy. Buyou? Hmm.â€ she muttered, starting to lead him on before reading the sheet of paper. â€œDeath comes not to those who waitâ€¦ with his strength comes loyalty. Yeah, you got some hard ones chico- ah, Buyou.â€ Roxxie explained, stuffing the documents back in his pockets.

Her hand felt different from the one he vaguely remembered from before.

Soon enough, they were out on the street, Buyouâ€™s hobbling steps breaking up the easy rhythm of Roxxieâ€™s own gentle, carefully measured footfalls. She kept talking to him softly, but he couldnâ€™t shake the feeling that he was being watched.

If he hadnâ€™t had his eyes trained on his feet in his feeble attempts to walk, he mightâ€™ve noticed the armored figure leaning out of a window above them, watching stoically as they rounded the entered the hotel that housed Roxxieâ€™s bar.

~~

Tick-tock, he was on the clock. Well, they did call him â€˜Clockworkâ€™ so really, he was always on the clock. The hulking, silver monstrosityâ€™s heavy footfalls resounded through the streets as he moved, his glimmering, filigree form covered in a shabby robe.

There were new ones hereâ€¦ she would be pleased, provided the stupid fox didnâ€™t interfere. Of course, he would, but thatâ€™s how this game had been going on for so long. He couldnâ€™t postpone its end forever.

Now if only the shadow vessel and the outlaw would get their asses in gear, his grand schemes could be put into placeâ€¦ if she allowed it.

For now, he kept patrolling the streets, hunting, waiting. He would peel the skin from the bones of those stupid enough to catch his attention, and that never got old. He hummed to himself, letting his airy, raspy voice resonate in his metallic frame, and kept on going, laughing to himself now and then.

The feeling of free-falling was slowly taking over her body. She was falling, and falling fast. The wind was cutting at her face, wiping her hair back and forth. She couldn't see anything. The cold air cutting at her face. She blinked, and could see the ground rising quickly to meet her...

Maria gasped shrewdly, her head smacking on the tile floor and the force of impact in her dream waking her from the slight coma she had been in. She blinked a few times, awaiting for her eye sight to re-focus and the blurs of shadows to become solid objects. She blinked again, making the muscles tense in her arms and hands. That was good, she could feel her fingers, her toes, her legs and body. There was no pain...at least no major pain that she could feel at first. Her head was pounding though.

Opening her eyes again, Maria took a deep breath and rolled onto her side. Her body protested the movement. Almost as if her body was still sleeping and refusing to wake up. Maria licked her lips before taking another deep breath and turning her head slightly. She couldn't see much. The place was dark. Where those bar stools?

Coughing a few times brought dust up from the floor, which then made Maria sneeze. Rubbing her nose, Maria managed to push herself up on her elbow, and then sat up entirely. The jacket that was loose on her shoulders slipped down, revealing the dusty yet vibrant green tank top she was wearing beneath it. The suede brushed against her shoulder, which was sore to the touch and Maria winced.

Looking down, Maria saw a bruise, though it didn't exactly surprise her. Though...how had she got it? Turning her gaze back to the run-down restaurant that she now found herself in, Maria was suddenly overwhelmed with confusion. How had she gotten here? Where was here anyway? The last thing she remembered...

"CARLOS!" Maria gasped, her body jolting and forcing her to stand. Her body protested the idea as an afterthought, and Maria had to grab hold of an old wooden chair that nearly crashed to sawdust under her weight. Her head was pounding now, and Maria realized half of the ache was coming from her hair being twisted into a tight bun at the back of her head. Pulling at the hair tie, Maria let the dark brown curls fall down to her back. She sighed with relief, running her fingers through her hair and scratching the back of her head.

"Ay mi cabeza...." Maria murmured softly, tilting her head curiously at the Spanish that spilled from her lips before she could think. Then she remember Carlos and the color nearly drained from her tanned face. Carlos was her older brother....she remembered being with him before....before...Maria held her head as she tried to think back. Everything was fuzzy...why couldn't she remember where they had been? Or how they got here? Was Carlos even here? Maria looked around quickly again. The place seemed a little run-down...but maybe she could get some cell reception...Maria reached into her pockets and frowned deeply.

The pockets of her dark jeans were completely empty! Maria reached into the pockets of her jacket and her fingers brushed up against a piece of paper. Pulling it out, Maria stepped over to a window for better lighting to read the words written there. "Beware the charmer...the Missing one is not lost?" Maria frowned deeply. What was that supposed to mean anyway?

Maria jumped at the sounds of a loud chime just outside the restaurant. He heart was racing as she tucked the slip of paper back into her pocket and dodged out the front door, her sneakers causing an echo as she went. A small feeling engulfed her as she twisted down the streets. Something was being said, and the voice echoed all around, but Maria could hardly pay attention. She felt light...weightless...almost as if she could fly.

The next thing she knew, Maria was in the air. The wind was swirling around her, gently, unlike the feeling in her dream. It encircled her, and Maria twirled. She was soaring, the wind pushing against her wings, ruffling her feathers, and nearly chilling her completely. Just as she felt like she was loosing that feeling, Maria headed towards a rooftop and landed. She blinked and she was back to her regular self. Laughing in disbelief, Maria stared at her hands and arms that were still clothed as before. She almost couldn't believe that a moment ago, her arms had been light brown wings covered in white and tan feathers.

For some reason, this didn't surprise her at all. It felt comfortable, being able to change into a bird and back again. Looking down, Maria found herself on top of a populated building. That was reassuring...maybe the whole city wasn't abandoned...maybe she could find Carlos here...or at least someone who might have seen him...maybe she could find out where she even was or how she got here. Shifting again, Maria dived down to a tree across the lane and from a branch, jumped down to the ground. She landed before shifting back to her usual self and, ruffling her hair, Maria tried not to look too confused and scared as she walked into the bar.

He was hungry. Very hungry, in fact; ten days since his last meal was pushing it, and heâ€™d like to eat something substantial within the next four. Heâ€™d gone through his store of food slowly enough, then through the food for the other carnivores.

Then he ate the other predators. He finished of the lions a month ago. Then the hyenas, then the other snakes, and after that two of the three tigers found their way into his maw.

He convinced the third one to throw itself onto an electric fence to see if it was still powered. Hisaka had not had cooked meat in far too long, and the flavor took getting used to again. And last week, he ate Steve, who had been so obediently under his control, providing him all that food. He hadnâ€™t even blinked when heâ€™d eaten the manâ€™s son three weeks prior. Come to think of it, neither had his son; prey knowing its place was always useful.

Now, though, the intelligent, massive serpent could only coil up and wait, his green eyes vibrant in the dull light. Someone would come soon enough; someone always did. Then he would be free, and he would eat.

And eat.

And eat.

And eat.

~~

Roxxie shifted Buyouâ€™s weight under her arm with a light huff, quite content to be bathed in the light of somewhere familiar. This hotel, the Golden Laurels, had been good to her. In its usefulness, it had also permitted her to help others. Thatâ€™s what he had wanted, she thought. Hold the Fort.

Her eyes looked up to the elegant marquee above the barâ€™s entrance, gorgeous, lavish woodwork engraved with those very words. The Fort was as much a splendid treasure she had found and her greatest accomplishment since sheâ€™d awoken. Now she had to help this little fellow before he finally collapsed. She eased him onto a couch and ruffled his hair gently. â€œNow you just lay here, Iâ€™ll get some soup for you.â€ she explained. He didnâ€™t really respond beyond a soft sigh and a weak smile.

This was too strange for her liking. Usually, people were left behind in much better shape than this. What was different this time? Roxxieâ€™s eyes swept over the stores of food she had as she ladled some soup into a bowl for the poor raccoon. She could feed another wave and sustain herself and the Dusty Scales, should they decide to stop in again, for a week without a restock. But if they were all in as poor health as Buyouâ€¦

Well, even if they all miraculously made it to her door, she didnâ€™t have the expertise or supplies to treat them all, and that made her anxious. Still, there was no reason to show her nervousness to the newcomer when he was in such a dire state.

It soon became apparent that water was probably going to be the only option for him, especially after he promptly threw up the two spoonfulls he managed to down. It did thankfully serve the purpose of wetting his mouth. He could swallow, and soon enough sheâ€™d propped him up in a bed back in the kitchen while she cooked for the evening, watching him sip away gingerly at a glass of water.

She let him drink up a bit before she spoke up. â€œWhat do you remember then, chico? Donâ€™t strain yourself if you donâ€™t think you can talk.â€

â€œThen I woke up again latter to some English speaking voices squabbling before I got hit in the head by something hard. They hit me in the back too. There was a bright light and a loud noise, and they ran away yelling, da?â€

Roxxie stirred a pot of sauce a bit more forcefully. â€œIâ€™m going to motherfucking kill Marlow.â€

â€œDid you say something, miss?â€Buyou asked, turning his head.

â€œJust call me Roxxie. And no, donâ€™t worry about it. Try to get some sleep, okay. Listen, this will sound sort of strange, but if you wake up and Iâ€™m gone, just make yourself comfortable. If I never come back, well, thereâ€™s a book under the bar with places to find more food and some directions, okay?â€ Roxxie asked, concern in her voice as she stepped over to check the raccoonâ€™s temperature with her hand. â€œYouâ€™ve cooled off a bit and youâ€™re talking better. Just try to finish that water before you sleep. Iâ€™ll be out front in the bar, okay? If you get hungry, help yourself.â€

Buyou nodded and yawned, weakly attempting to politely cover the bodily expression. Roxxie left and tugged the door closed, a smile on her muzzle. Even if they were all sick, she would make do.

She always did.

~~

Given his size, Maccus was not entirely keen on leaving the chance that he would remember how to fly up to simple instinct. But after he tried to squeeze into the stairwell, and an elevator, and was met with little luck, he soon realized there was little chance he would find another way down. But at that moment when he stared down into the quiet streets, he felt more calm than he had since heâ€™d woken up.

The air was clean, cool, and it filled his wings as he spread them and leaped from the building and plummeted like a ton of bricks.

After much frantic tumbling and roaring, he finally managed to level himself and settle into a clumsy glide, and with an experimental flap of his wings, he picked up speed and altitude. Perhaps he shouldnâ€™t write off instinct so easily. Still, turning was a bit difficult as of yet, and he was often kicking off the odd building here and there trying to adjust his heading in the dim, quickly fading light. He essentially ran on all fours as he tried to round one corner, trying to push off the smooth, clean glass of a skyscraper. As he passed, he could have sworn that heâ€™d seen someone, or something, staring out at him. Of course he couldnâ€™t quite slow down enough to get a good luck, and turning around wasnâ€™t an option.

So either he wasnâ€™t alone, or he was seeing things. Neither was necessarily comforting at this point. Still, he soared through the streets, content that most were more than wide enough for his large wingspan and equally large frame.

Maccus rounded another particularly tight corner with more ease this time, and spotted what was clearly a person in the street below him. A horse and rider, actuallyâ€¦ a rider that very calmly began shooting at him with terrifying accuracy, and he hissed as the bullets impacted his hide. He flapped harder under the hail of shots, and felt over his torso to find only a few abrasions, but nothing too deep or rough. Still, he wouldnâ€™t want to sit there like an idiot just to get shot. He picked up speed and flew towards one of the larger buildings in the city, just hoping to leave the gunman behind.

So he wasnâ€™t alone, and he couldnâ€™t be sure that whoever he ran across would be friendly. As he shot a gaze back at the slow, steady horse below him, he rumbled.

He also couldnâ€™t assume whoever he found to be properly alive. The horse was a skeleton, and the rider was too concealed to properly see, but Maccus was sure he didnâ€™t want to know what he looked like. He soared up over a nearby roof and clamped desperately onto some fencing on the buildingâ€™s top to stop himself rather clumsily.

Only know did he catch the tail end of an announcement of some sort like the one heâ€™d heard when he woke up, but definitely a womanâ€™s voice now. For the moment, he just huffed and sat back on the roof, rubbing the scrapes on the scales of his chest with his thumb. For the first time since he woke up, he was happy he was so big and tough.

Maccus was not happy, however, when he heard heavy, plodding footsteps behind him. â€œTick Tock, dragon.â€

The cheers from the crowd made him smile, victory was assured Calvin was going to be champion once more. Yet, there was something wrong....why can't he see who he was fighting? The crowd was still screaming like mad and that was just it, the wails and screams were like that of those who had lost their mind. Calvin's world no longer made sense and in the haze of his mind he felt the sickening sensation of being spun in a circle. As if the very world itself began to spin, leaving him in the center of it all to suffer. Mighty hands clapped the side of his head as a fearsome bellow broke forth from his throat whilst he sank slowly to his knees.

Groaning Calvin's eyes slowly opened, leaving him staring up at what looked like a bulls skeleton with its large curved horns proudly displayed.

â€œWhat the?â€ he exclaimed as he sat up in a rush, which he immediately regretted for how it made his head swim and throb. Groaning and grumbling some more he took a good look at his surroundings, noting all of the bovine â€œfriendlyâ€ decorations. â€œSomeone has a sick sense of humorâ€ he growled as he got to one knee, his large hoofed foot echoing as it impacted with the wood floor. â€œWhoever is responsible for this I am going to sit on them and make them sorry for thinking this would be a good jokeâ€ speaking aloud to himself as he heaved himself to his feet, his horns grazing a couple of the decorations.

It was only at this point that he noticed the bouquet of flowers he was holding tightly in his fist. Nostrils flaring as he took in their sweet scent his eyes took note of the card that lay nestled among the delicate petals. Heading cocking to the side he shifted the petals with care so as to read who the flowers were intended.

â€œhmmm....Mom...â€ his deep voice rumbled in his chest as he read the simple word, in that instant his moments before waking up flashed before him.

Standing there at the flower stand, the rain heavy pouring down in sheets, though his hulking form seemed to take no notice of it, save for one hand pulling the finely made overcoat closed about the front.

â€œSo who are they for?â€ the cheery flower vender asked as the flowers were put together.

â€œMy mother. Today is her birthdayâ€ Calvin said with a smile while his hand worked carefully in manipulating the small pen as he wrote in the card.

The flash ended he opened the card to see what he had written, though instead he found

YOU WILL KNOW HIM WHEN IT IS TIMETHE BLIND ONE SEES

Snorting in confusion he took the card from the flowers, â€œI know I did not write thatâ€ he mused aloud to himself before tucking the card into a fold on his waist, behind the belt he wore. Looking down at the floors he just sighed and tucked them behind his belt as well, as carefully as he could manage. Where ever the hell he was now that did not excuse him from missing his mother's birthday or not bringing her something.

â€œAlright Momma, your boy is coming home for dinnerâ€ he proclaimed before lumbering outside to try and see just where he was.

The sudden gun shoots woke him up. Carlos went from being dead asleep to wide awake in the manner of three seconds and he felt sick to his stomach. The shock of gun fire rattled his bones, as if the fear of a gunshot wound was personally known to him. Sitting up, Carlos rubbed his head, running his fingers through his hair before looking around in confusion. Where the hell was he anyway?

Another gunshot went off, and there was a clatter on the ceiling above Carlos. Then silence. Carlos was on his feet then and looking around the room he had found himself. What was this place? He had no idea, but as soon as he spotted the staircase in the corner of the room, Carlos dashed up them. A thousand questions were buzzing through his mind, but he wanted to know where the gunshots were coming from. It was close...someone could be hurt...but why were they on the roof?

Carlos was taking the steps three at a time. His heart was pounding, and there was a sense in him that he could be moving much much faster than this. Closing his eyes and taking a deep breath, Carlos jumped up towards another flight and found that his feet never touched back down. Instead he was soaring in circles now, heading upwards towards the door that would lead to the roof. Getting there, Carlos hardly registered that he'd shifted forms. It felt natural, like something he'd done many times before.

Taking a deep breath to calm himself down a degree, Carlos nudged the door open just a crack. The same instinct that told him he could shift was telling him now to keep low and quiet. He wasn't going to argue. What his eyes landed on first was a massive shadow, and Carlos wasn't sure if what he was seeing was reality of a dream. Was this a dragon? Maybe it was just the way the late night light was falling...still, it looked hurt... Carlos couldn't see a gun anywhere near it...maybe it had been shot at?

Carlos chewed his lip. The doorway wasn't that far off...Carlos opened the door another inch just to try and see the rest of the rooftop. He couldn't see if anyone else was on the roof...Carlos turned back to the dragon and nudged open the door a bit farther. He whistled softly, making it sounds like a soft sound from a song bird. Nothing too out of the ordinary right? He hugged the door, nodding to the dragon for him to follow Carlos.

A part of his mind was yelling question after question at him because he had woken up in the strange place and was acting purely on instinct. Carlos almost refused to listen to his rational thought right now. Dragon or not, if the thing was hurt, Carlos just couldn't sit by and do nothing. He would have a chance for question later probably. Now just wasn't the time.

------------------

Maria was still staring up at the bar marquee, debating if she dare venture inside or not. What was she going to say? That she was lost, confused and had little idea of who she was? Or and her brother was missing but she couldn't remember exactly what he looked like. Maria chewed her lip nervously, rubbing her arms although she wasn't all that cold. Looking back up again, Maria huffed a sigh. The Fort huh? That was an interesting title...

Stepping out from under the tree, Maria crossed the endlessly quiet street. Reaching a slightly shaking hand forward, Maria pushed back the door. She winced slightly a the new lighting, though dark brown eyes quickly readjusted. Maria continued to rub her arms, more out of comfort now rather than a requirement for heat.

Looking around, Maria was kinda surprised to find that the place wasn't as packed as one would assume. The bar was lit and obviously opened for business...what night was it anyway? Maria rubbed her forehead as the sharp ache came back as she tried to push the boundaries of her amnesia.

Walking forward to the bar counter, Maria let her eyes wander over the bartender. Was that a fox? Maria couldn't help but smile slightly. So she wasn't the only odd one here. "Um 'xcuse me." Maria said, leaning on the bar slightly. "I-I need some help. Can you tell me where I am?" Maria asked, her voice soft and gently with a slight Spanish accent.

Roxxie looked up from a notebook she had placed on the counter towards the voice calling for her attention. â€œWell chica, youâ€™re in the Fort in a hotel called the Golden Laurels. Weâ€™re in a city on an island, and as for anything beyond that weâ€™re both in the dark.â€ she replied, vaulting quietly over onto the bar and crossing her legs.

â€œWe all wake up like that, so donâ€™t worry. We donâ€™t remember much of anything, and some of us arenâ€™t even lucky enough to wake up with our names. Itâ€™s sort of random who remembers more from what I can tell.â€ Roxxie explained. â€œIâ€™m Roxxie. Iâ€™ve been here a while sweetheart so trust me when I say youâ€™re gonna want to try and get comfortable.â€ she added, folding up her notebook and holding it close.

â€œLemme guess, you woke up with a note? Two cryptic-as-hell lilâ€™ things written on it?â€ Roxxie asked, pulling out a chair and beckoning the girl over. â€œGot another newcomer in the back who wasnâ€™t lucky enough to wake up well enough to walk, which honestly is a first. Everyoneâ€™s usually not too worse for wear. Sit, sit, Iâ€™ve got some dinner cooking. Youâ€™re safe here. Now why donâ€™t you tell me what you can remember?â€

In truth, Roxxie was a bit overwhelmed by the prospect of another wave so soon after the last one. True, the waves had seemed much smaller and unfortunately people seemed to die left and right nowadays. She remembered what it was like waking up in this place, finding out the hard way the sort of terrors that were abound.

The vixen shifted lightly at a particularly unpleasant memory. She was just tired of losing people.

â€œDid you see anyone else on your way here? Iâ€™d like to round up as many as I can. This place is one of the only safe spots on the island.â€

~~

Maccus turned to the voice behind him to see a rather terrifyingly large metal behemoth in the mocking shape of a cloaked man looming over him in the moonlight. â€œSo he brought new ones again, hmm? How fun.â€ it spoke in a sing-song voice, extending a long arm towards him.

The light whistling of a song bird drew his attention to someone in a stairwell nearby that looked thankfully normal. Well, as normal as he could remember. On instinct, he grabbed the metal manâ€™s arm and wheeled about, hurling him with all his might off of the building. His muscles burned in protest from the weight, but soon enough the imposing thing was tumbling off the edge of the roof with a furious yell.

Maccus felt this was a very, very good time to get away.

He charged towards the open door, somewhat clumsily dealing with his own size as he got closer. â€œGo, go, before whatever that is comes back!â€ he urged, crouching into the stairwell and promptly slamming his head on the doorframe. Being this big was certainly not going to be easy and, judging by all the architectural problems he kept running into, it certainly wasnâ€™t the norm. His detectiveâ€™s badge waved in the air with his heavy breaths.

He looked over at the boy heâ€™d probably scared half to death and sighed. â€œThank you. Youâ€™re the first thing thatâ€™s not tried to get at me since I woke up. Do you have any idea where we are? I keep hearing all these announcements but the streets seem empty save for a few things Iâ€™d rather not have run across.â€ Mac explained, slumping back against the stairs but maintaining a slouch to keep himself from having another nasty bump on his head. â€œMy nameâ€™s Maccusâ€¦ I think. I canâ€™t really remember anything before waking up. How about you?â€ he asked, his voice hopeful.

If anything, if this kid tried to hurt him Maccus was at least sure this was a fight he could win.

Maria rubbed her forehead gently as she listened to the fox. The city was called the Fort...alright...and this was a hotel? Golden Laurels...that was good to know...maybe she could stay here. The place looked safe enough. Maria smiled as the fox introduced herself. "Roxxie..." Maria nodded. "My name's Maria...my older brother, Carlos, used to call me Ria...but that's all I can really remember..." she said. As Roxxie offered her a seat, Maria smiled and sat down. A wave of relief seemed to wash over her as she sat down. It was only then that Maria realized she'd been running on fear and adrenaline this whole time and she was finally able to sit down. The world did a small two-seventy, and Maria had to grip the counter tightly to avoid falling over.

"Mierda" Maria muttered, holding her head for a moment and closing her eyes against the dizziness. She focused on what Roxxie was saying and as she thought, Maria was reminded about the paper in her pocket. It had been the only thing she'd woken up with.Blinking her eyes open, Maria pulled the slip of paper out of her pocket. Opening it, she read it over once more before handing it to Roxxie for her to see."Beware the Charmer..." Maria murmured softly. "The Missing one if not lost. Do you know why we have these?" Maria asked, a slight accent to her words now. "The last thing I remember, is trying to call my brother. You haven't seen him have you? He looks..." Maria trailed off the, her head telling her that if she continued, a headache would follow. She tried anyway, desperate for a flash or some image of her brother."Like me...I guess." Maria said, frowning deeply and rubbing her forehead again.

Her body calmed down again as Roxxie continued to talk to her and Maria rubbed her lips thoughtfully. At the thought of dinner, Maria's stomach stood up like a dog wanting a treat and she smiled softly again, though kept her gaze down on the table. She rubbed her arms, as if cold before answering Roxxie's question."No...I don't think I saw anyone..." Maria murmured. "I heard some announcement but that was all really."

--------------------------

Carlos was still crouching low towards the floor, watching with slight horror at the scene that unfolded before him. He caught a flash of metal where he would have sworn flesh should have been before the dragon creature was heading towards him. Carlos backed up enough to give the dragon a wide enough space before shutting the door closed as best he could behind him.

Taking a few steps down, Carlos turned back at the deep voice that acknowledged him. His heart was still pounding and his chest heaving from the run up, but Carlos managed a small smile."Gunshots are never a good thing." Carlos said, taking a deep breath to calm down, brushing his forearm against his head to wipe away the sweat.

He realized then that he was completely filthy. It hadn't occurred to him before, but not that he looked down, Carlos couldn't help but chuckle. He had on a white shirt that was big enough to cover him comfortable, but it was covered in dust and dirt, like he had been in an old western brawl. His denim jeans were in the same state, though on one leg it looked like someones blood was smeared. It wasn't his that was for sure.

His sneakers looked like he'd put them through hell as well. How he had gotten like this, Carlos had no idea. Rubbing his forehead, Carlos sighed as his heart-rate fell back to normal and the adrenaline kicked out of his system. Slowly he slid down to where he was sitting on a step rather than standing.

Looking over as the dragon introduced himself as Maccus, Carlos smiled and nodded in greeting. His smile slowly turned to a frown. He wanted to give Maccus his name but...he couldn't seem to remember anything since he'd woken at the sounds of the gunshots. Patting his pockets, Carlos wondered if something he had could help jog his memory.

All he found was an old worn wallet and a scrap of paper. Opening the piece of paper, Carlos frowned at the words:HIS MAP WILL GUIDE YOUDO NOT FEAR HIS FIRE.

"What is this?" Carlos muttered, not even realizing he'd spoken in Spanish. He read over the piece of paper. "Que fuego?" He was speaking quietly, as if trying to work out a riddle that might make sense if heard repeatedly. He glanced up at Maccus then, a small smirk on his face."You breathe fire?" Carlos asked him, chuckling to himself before putting the slip away and shaking his head.

"I don't remember who I am." Carlos said, his English thick as he forced himself away from the Spanish. "Or how I came here. I only remember the gunshots and then I helped you." Carlos spoke as he turned over the wallet in his hands. There was a vibrantly colored flag on the front. A star of white in a sea of blue and red and white stripes. Carlos couldn't remember where it was from. Opening the wallet, Carlos saw that it was practically empty. No money, no I.D., no credit cards or loose change. Just as he was going to close it, a picture slipped out from one of the slits.

Taking the picture in hand, Carlos stared curiously at the photograph of a young man and a teen aged girl. The girl was grinning, her head caught under the arm of the young man who had an equally happy expression on his face. Was that him? Carlos noticed the white scars on the mans neck, and reached to his own. The raised skin told him the scars were there. This was him then.Who was the girl though? Carlos frowned deeply, his head pounding as he tried to force it to work."Have you seen this girl before?" Carlos asked, holding the picture up for Maccus to see.

â€œDamn. Feels like I got hit in the head with a metal pipe,â€ he muttered to himself, as a loud noise coming from outside woke him from his deep slumber, followed by a pain in his chest. â€œThe hell happened..?â€

He was breathing heavily, slowly, his heart racing, and he wasnâ€™t sure why but he felt angry. He dug his claws into the bed he was laying on â€“-which was, oddly enough, lacking pillows or a blanket, and even the bed sheet was missing. He was just lying on an old mattress like he had been deliberately placed there, not to be comfortable-- and took a deep breath to calm himself down. Head hurt. Each breath he took hoping to calm down made the pain in his chest worse. Eventually it irritated him, being someone who doesnâ€™t like pain. And it wasnâ€™t just his chest, but his whole body seemed to ache, making him feel a little irritable.

He closed his eyes and sighed softly, trying to remember what had happened the night before. Unfortunately his memory seemed to be failing him â€“-just where in Samâ€™s Hell was he and how did he get here?

He looked around the room which appeared to be some kind of hotel room. The room was in such sad shape that it made him wonder why this place hasnâ€™t been condemned: there were a good many clothes scattered about, even some rotten food left in the refrigerator, which had its door left wide open. Whoever had stayed here before him made sure they left in a hurry. There was even some graffiti on the walls; various pictures and quotes from famous poems or anecdotes from famous books that he recognized. Normally Yosarin would take some time to read those quotes, but now he wanted to get out of this room. Out. As soon as possible. There was a lamp on the bedside table. He tried it, but it didnâ€™t work. Huge surprise, he said to himself. This room was soâ€¦ neglected. Seriously, why the hell didnâ€™t anyone bother to clean this place up?

It took him a moment to find his balance and when he tried to walk he stumbled forward a bit. Though it wasnâ€™t long before the pain from the wound in his chest (which he noticed had been stitched up) caused him to drop to his knees, and that was also when he noticed the necklace hanging around his neck. Which brought up another question: why was he half naked? He could have sworn he was fully dressedâ€¦ what the hell was going on? Temporarily forgetting about that as well as the pain, Yosarin gazed at the dog tag necklace for a moment, holding it in the palm of his hand â€œThatâ€™s right. Iâ€¦ I think Iâ€™m a part of this clanâ€¦â€ A vague mental image appeared in his memory, showing a bunch of other foxes, similar to a picture. He knew them he swore he did, but nowâ€¦

He also discovered something dull and shiny out of the corner of his eye. When Yosarin turned his attention towards the object it turned out to be a dagger; a peculiar dagger that belonged to an assassin, he noticed. He recognized the very structure of it. So, the clan he belonged to was an assassin clan? But who has ever heard of foxes being assassins? It just sounded silly. But even sillier was the message that was written on the dagger, seemingly in blood, that said:

THERE IS A TRICKSTER AMONG YOUONE LIES FOR THE SAKE OF LYING

â€œTrickster?â€ He cocked his head to the side and rubbed his chin in a thoughtful manner. â€œNow what exactly could that mean, I wonder...â€ He picked the dagger up and stood up, holding it out to the light that shined in through the torn window curtains. Perhaps the message and the dagger were associated with each other? Further investigation lead him to a dead end as the dagger seemed to not be associated with the message after all. He also wondered if the person who left this message was the same person who cut him up with that dagger. At least that seemed to make senseâ€¦ right? Just who would do this to him? Could it have possibly been this mysterious â€˜Trickster?â€™ Or was it a more psychological thing, something along the lines of â€˜not everything is what it seems?â€™

He could be thinking too much into this, and so early too. It made his head hurt. For now Yosarin tucked the dagger away safely in his boot, it seemed natural, and began to focus more on getting out of this room and finding out where he was.

There was a brochure sitting on the bedside table that caught his attention. Perhaps it would give him some information on where he wasâ€¦ Oh and curiosity kills the cat indeed, even if he was a fox. Apparently, he was in some island, a resort city of sorts, seemingly in cut off from civilization. This was a hotel, called the Golden Laurels, so that made sense. For some reason reading through this brochure made him feel uneasy and Yosarin knew he had to get the hell out of here. He tossed it onto the floor, feeling very compelled to step on it, and he did, then looked towards the door.

â€œThis room is on the fourth floor, eh?â€ He groaned, glanced over the fire exit map tapped to the back of the door leading out of the room. The door looked like it would openâ€¦ once he left that would be it. However, he couldnâ€™t just leave like this. Yosarin took one of the old shirts off a hanger in the closet and put it on so he had something to hide his wound. It was a hideous blue shirt that was not his color at all but he decided it was better than nothing. What bothered him about it was this: the shirt appeared to have been intentionally placed there for him to find. As did the brochure, now that he thought of itâ€¦ this was all so strange.

For example, his favorite game of the day was seeing how long it took Taka to tell him to please, for the love of all that was decent, put on pants. He was a cute hawk, that one, but so far he had resisted LeBlancâ€™s advances towards a good shagging.

But of course, the game was most of the fun. Still, he was certain that dancing around the bathroom with the door open and music blaring would eventually chisel through the birdâ€™s saintly patience. LeBlanc paused in front of one of the many mirrors heâ€™d acquired for their bathroom and struck a pose.

He was tall, but a more adequate description would simply be long; his thin body was covered in fine, well-manicured scales that were by all appearances black, save for a slight iridescence that was more reminiscent of the comparatively more colorful ancestors and cousins. Though he remembered very little from his life outside the island, he was quite certain he had a very specific pedigree; after all, most people seemed to get a bit of a start when they saw an eastern dragon. He had the requisite dangling whiskers and a long, shaggy mane of preposterously blue fur that extended all the way down to a bush-shaped tuft at the end of his long tail which, in defiance of his often rather lazy demeanor, was seemingly always coiling to and fro, or around someoneâ€™s thigh. He let out a breath and relaxed his rigid posture into a much more comfortable slouch that lessened the long shape of his body slightly, even as his tail dragged behind him for a ways.

He cleared his throat and rapped his knuckles on the doorframe to the bathroom, leaning on it as Taka looked up from his map with the same polite blush he always had when confront with a rather naked dragon staring him in the face. â€œYouâ€™re doing pretty well today, Taka, youâ€™ve not begged me to put on pants yet. Am I growing on you? Or have you just caught on to my tricks? Such a smart bird you are.â€ LeBlanc teased, his dark form silhouetted against the light of the bathroom.

Taka stammered lightly and raised a feathered wing in protest, but Leblanc quickly waved him off. â€œNo no, Iâ€™m just teasing cutie. I get it, waitinâ€™ for that pink haired vixen of yours. Iâ€™m just so dreadfully bored.â€ he interjected, striding around the birdâ€™s desk and leaning on it, his tail coiled high behind him as he shifted a bit to the music in the bathroom.

â€œIâ€™ve had no luck gettinâ€™ into that door, though. Iâ€™m pretty sure that even with all my inherent brilliance that I canâ€™t outhack whateverâ€™s on the inside trying to keep me out.â€ LeBlanc added. â€œOh, and if your girlfriend does show up, donâ€™t tell her my first name. I like to keep it between close friends, yeah? Cute close friends especially.â€ he tossed out.

Taka adjusted himself and moved some things off the table so that LeBlanc could get a better look at his map. The handiwork was gorgeous and very detailed for a hand-drawn affair. Still, the bird always had something to add; perfectionism seemed to run through to his core like an obsession. â€œWell the Golden Laurels has a clear enough path to here assuming the Bosses are all busy, and judging by the gunshots I figure they are. If Roxxie sees weâ€™ve lit up the lighthouse, sheâ€™ll head this way with whoeverâ€™s around.â€ Taka explained, examining his own work. â€œI only wish we had an idea of what was behind that door.â€

â€œThereâ€™s no use in fretting over it, featherhead. Remember what I keep telling you, lifeâ€™s a game-â€œ

â€œThe important part is that you win it, yeah. But this game the Stalkerâ€™s gotten us into seems unwinnable.â€ Taka replied, making sure to avert his eyes from LeBlanc as the dragon stood up, leaving his unmentionables at a rather uncomfortable height for the poor bird.

â€œWell of course, but only an idiot plays by the rules. Weâ€™ve just got to cheat our way to winning, hmm? Get everyone out of here in one piece, get out and see the worldâ€¦ I think Iâ€™ll go visit Hawaii or something. An island without prudish birds and murderous monstrosities would be nice, especially since you wonâ€™t let me download porn when I puncture the signal barrier.â€

â€œYou know we need that information to-â€œ

â€œYeah yeah, I know cutie. Youâ€™re so cute when youâ€™re gullible.â€ LeBlanc added, grinning wide at the bird with a hand on his hip. â€œAnd thatâ€™s all the time~â€ he trailed off, striding back around the desk to his own little work station and giving a computer a light kick with his paw. â€œRise and shine my little babies, weâ€™ll give you one more shot at opening that door before I crack open every motherfucking car battery on the island and poor acid all over it.â€ Leblanc chimed before pausing â€œThough I probably couldâ€™ve just done that in the first place.â€

Much to Takaâ€™s relief, the dragon soon slipped on some loose linen pants and flopped into his computer chair. When theyâ€™d first met, LeBlanc put a bullet through the birdâ€™s left wing leaving the poor hawk as LeBlancâ€™s target for as much sexual harassment as he could muster. All of it was in good fun, of course, though he did sincerely wish that Taka had been more eager to trying out some of his more recent chemical concoctions. Some people just didnâ€™t share his penchant for the more science-oriented things in life.

Still, basked in the bluish light of his computer screens he couldnâ€™t help but smile to himself. He was certainly of the promiscuous sort like he put on, but he found it to be rather disarming in an odd way; people were less likely to notice they were being manipulated when they were worried about other things, and it certainly kept the birdâ€™s prying eyes away from most of LeBlancâ€™s work which was, in the dragonâ€™s opinion, as brilliant as he could ask for.

Since heâ€™d awoken heâ€™d made no effort to venture outside save for a single instance wherein he encountered the thing Taka called Clockwork. The nasty brute had been quite keen to make a belt out of the dragon, it seemed, so he saw no need to leave the safety of his lighthouse afterwards; it was surprisingly well stocked with military rations and equipment and far more tech than would be reasonable. Indeed, its function as a lighthouse was secondary at best; from what he could tell it was a very, very powerful broadcasting station.

It took more than a bit of tweaking to be able to punch through all the interference around the island, but he never really got any replies after the first month. An errant growling, a hushed, gasping series of breaths that were soon snuffed out, or even a scream. If anyone was out there, they sure as hell werenâ€™t listening.

But there was no reason to tell anyone that yet, and there certainly wasnâ€™t any reason to speculate aloud on what was causing all the interference. He just had to get into that stupid door and check for himself, and then heâ€™d be satisfied.

Besides, if this was a game, someone had to win it. It might as well be him.

â€œSo how long do we have to wait for your girlfriend, because Iâ€™m totally up for a three way. We can even make it all about you.â€ LeBlanc called out to the melodious sound of Taka knocking over all his writing utensils.

LeBlanc leaned back with an easy sigh, eyes scanning lines of code and, more interestingly, a great number of camera feeds heâ€™d managed to tap into. He still didnâ€™t understand what practical reason there was to run the entire island on a central security network, but the place was insanely well monitored. It was also, for reasons he delighted in guessing at, preposterously well preserved. Saved for messes in very particular locations, the entire island was pristinely manicured. All the streets were clean, food stayed fresh in all the supermarkets and was even restocked if taken, there were no cars, and besides places where scuffles had broken out with the bosses, no apparent damage. For all LeBlanc could tell, the place was ready to open for business and simply never did. All of it reeked of the supernatural, in his not-so-humble opinion, and he was eager to find out more.

But right now, his eyes hung on a particularly attractive and large minotaur exiting a building. He snatched up a microphone and tapped it twice, watching Taka clean up his things. â€œHey there big guy. Yeah, you, the one with the horns. Look up at the nearest streetpole and give a wave to the camera.â€ He chimed, feeling the hawk watching him from the other room.

â€œIf you take a left and keep walking, you should see the lighthouse down by the marina soon enough, big fella. Do be a dear and not try to swim away, it doesnâ€™t end well. Drop by~ I canâ€™t wait to see you in person.â€

~~

Maccus huffed lightly, a puff of ash on his breath making it apparent that he probably did indeed breathe fire, though he wasnâ€™t going to do so inside. â€œProbably. Iâ€™ve not tried since I woke up. This is a big place, though; I flew some ways and still didnâ€™t hit the city limit. Youâ€™ve got one of those little notes too, then?â€ Maccus asked, producing his own, the detective branch hanging around his neck glinting in the artificial light. â€œBlessed are the meek, fear the sound of hooves. Well, I understand that last one now, anyway. Some guy on horseback was the one taking potshots at me, but they didnâ€™t do much but sting.â€ the dragon explained, still hunched rather awkwardly.

â€œI donâ€™t understand the other one of mine, though. Sounds biblical or something; hopefully this isnâ€™t some religious nutjobâ€™s work.â€ he concluded, looking at the picture the young boy had presented. â€œYouâ€™re the first human Iâ€™ve seen since I woke up.â€ he responded. â€œBut if sheâ€™s around, hopefully sheâ€™s staying out of the way of that metal man out there.â€

Maccus shifted a bit, his wings tucked tight against his back. â€œSo did you have a plan besides us getting in the stairwell? Itâ€™s going to be a bit difficult for me to walk down from here of all things.â€

~~

â€œThis barâ€™s been good to me. Kept me and more than a handful of people safe from the hell that can roam around this place; Ivy Cityâ€™s nothing but a sugar-coated nightmare, Iâ€™m sure of it. The notes are something Iâ€™ve taken to studying. Theyâ€™re clues, or advice. Sometimes theyâ€™re really easy to get. I had â€œHold the Fort.â€

Roxxie gestured playfully around her. â€œSo here we are, in a bar called the Fort. Iâ€™ve held up here and helped folk since I woke up and found the place. Yours areâ€¦ cryptic, sometimes they get like that too.â€

Roxxie hopped down off of the bar and walked to look out of the window. â€œAnd I think I know who leaves us the damn notes too.â€ she remarked, her ear catching the sound of footsteps a floor or so above the high ceiling of the lobby. â€œSomeoneâ€™s upstairs? And you didnâ€™t see anyone else?â€ Roxxie grabbed a shotgun from behind the bar and shouldered it. â€œCan you check on the lilâ€™ guy thatâ€™s back in the kitchen resting? Iâ€™ll go take a look.â€

The light hurt his eyes for a bit, akin to having been sleeping then going right outside. A large hand came up to shield his hazel eyes as he looked about the place. Trying to get at least a small idea as to just where he was. â€œGreat I am in some city...that looks like every other city...in the world....â€ Alex sighed deeply as he lowered his hand. Feeling lost and confused, not to mention anxious about what could have happened to his mother. Alex was slowly becoming grumpy, which was not going to be a good thing for whoever he comes across in this place. They better have answers and give them quickly, or else they may just get the business end of one of his horns where the sun did not shine.

â€œHey there big guy. Yeah, you, the one with the horns. Look up at the nearest streetpole and give a wave to the camera.â€ He chimed, feeling the hawk watching him from the other room.

â€œIf you take a left and keep walking, you should see the lighthouse down by the marina soon enough, big fella. Do be a dear and not try to swim away, it doesnâ€™t end well. Drop by~ I canâ€™t wait to see you in person.â€

Alex spun about a bit, his hands ready to take on whatever danger there might be. As the words slowly sunk in though he looked about a streetpole and did as instructed, even through in his best smile as he waved.

â€œWell it looks like this place is not so empty after allâ€ he said aloud to himself as he took the instructed left and headed to the marina. Oddly enough the mere thought of swimming made Alex uneasy, being as big, heavy and dense as he was, he did not really float too well. Not to mention the fact that he had large heavy hooves which were not the best for swimming. Yeah Alex would have no problem steering clear of the water.

As he walked his heavy footfalls echoed through the empty streets of the city, making him feel paranoid. Like someone was watching him and not just whoever had spoken to him just a moment ago. No there was like a presence in the city that was making his fur prickle and making him feel like a caged animal. Alex did not like that feeling, he did not like it at all. Yet, by some luck he made his way to the lighthouse accosted.

â€œHello? Some talking camera told me to come here!â€ he called from doorway though he made sure to not actually go inside, not just yet. Outside he could maneuver about better which would mean he could defend himself better.

Carlos frowned,as he listened to Maccuss. After a moment, he turned the picture back to him to look at once more. Sighing quickly, Carlos gently placed the picture back in his wallet. He passed a hand over the worn leather a moment, wishing he could remember where he had gotten this, or who was in the picture, before sliding it back into his pocket where he had first found it. Looking around carefully, Carlos was already trying to calculate a way out of here before Maccus even asked him.

"To be honest, I did not thinking you would be so large." Carlos said, though there was a small smirk on his face to say he meant no offense. He stood up and looked back down the spiraling stair case. Maccus was right, he wouldn't be able to fit all the way down without breaking something. Carlos chewed his lip."Perhaps the gun-man is gone?" Carlos murmured, thinking out loud as he turned back to the disfigured door. It had managed to close again, however the frame was off now from where the dragon had bumped into it."He may have thought you went down...he did not follow us here." Carlos said, gently pulling the door open, as if expecting to hear another gun shot if he moved to quickly.

---------------

Maria smiled as she listened to Roxxie, sipping from the soup as she went along. When Roxxie turned, Maria's head seemed to snap towards the roof. She heard something, but she wasn't exactly sure what it was that she was hearing."It sounds like someone's upstairs..." Maria murmured, letting on that she could hear much better than an average human. "No, I-I didn't see anyone else on my way here." Maria said, standing up from her table and dinner.

Nodding to Roxxi, Maria wandered back towards the kitchen. She smiled lightly at the sleeping raccoon in the bed she found there. There was a half empty glass of water, so Maria diligently refilled it with cold water.Setting the glass down, Maria looked the male over. For some reason, he looked a bit ill. Maria pressed a small hand against the raccoon's forehead with a small frown.Looking around the kitchen, Maria found a small cloth and ran it under the sink before setting it gently on the raccoon's head.

LeBlanc considered himself a creature of refined tastes. Sure, he would gladly have a romp with just about anything with a pulse, but in the end he often found himself terribly bored. This island was always too predictable at this point and he worried that without getting through that blasted door he might go profoundly mad with the weight of his own intellect.

Of course, as he walked down the stairs towards the door of the lighthouse he considered that perhaps thatâ€™s exactly what he needed. One needed to be a little insane to really grasp the hell of this place, and every day it was closer to being right in the palm of his hand. â€œOh, so very lovely to hear a voice besides mine and my reluctant roommateâ€™s big guy! Glad you made it safely. Not too much trouble, was it?â€ he called out as he continued down, finally rounding the staircase into view, slouched lazily with an ornate revolver tucked into his waistband.

â€œIâ€™m your talking camera. Or, rather, I talked to you through the camera and happen to be a dragon.â€ LeBlanc added, standing in front of the large minotaur. The dragon was slouched but clearly not much shorter than the newcomer if he took the time to stand up straight. He plainly looked the large male over with a sly smirk. â€œI also havenâ€™t had the pleasure of a man I can look up to since I woke up. Thatâ€™s big points for you, stud. Come in, come in.â€ he waved, moving inside. â€œMind the gun, though; this place makes you a little paranoid. Given your size I can see why you went unmolested.â€

LeBlancâ€™s tail coiled lightly around the minotaurâ€™s leg with a mind of its â€œI hope Iâ€™m not being forward asking your name. If you remember it, anyway; some donâ€™t. I go by LeBlanc. Pleasure, stud.â€ the dragon explained with a seductive smile, offering his hand. â€œCare for the grand tour? Please donâ€™t startle my roommate; heâ€™s shy and doesnâ€™t take well to things that can squash him like a bug.â€

~~

Maccus found the young manâ€™s reasoning to be quite acceptable. â€œWell, yeah, he probably thought that.â€ he responded, leaving out that he had seen someone else since he woke up. Maybe the metal man had chased easier prey? Either way, a break was welcome.

â€œWe should go then. The bullets didnâ€™t hurt, really, just scared me. Tough hide.â€ He explained, thumping his bicep for emphasis. â€œBut that metal guy was out for blood. We shouldnâ€™t stick around. I doubt you can fly on your own; should I carry you?â€

~~

As Roxxie started to search the upstairs floor, Buyou stirred under the attentions of a newcomer. He coughed a little and squirmed upwards in bed. â€œWhat is your name? Iâ€™m Buyou, da?â€ he asked happily. He winced a bit at some muscle soreness. â€œAre you miss Roxxieâ€™s friend?â€ he asked after a second, looking around.

â€œDo you know where we are? Miss Roxxie came and found me, but I donâ€™t know how I got here, da? Head feels fuzzy.â€ he complained quietly. Buyou sniffed the air and smiled brightly. â€œIs someone cooking? I love cooking, da?â€

The morning dew soothed Leyaraâ€™s aching muscles; glistening upon her skin like miniature morning stars. The cool breeze stirred the slender woman awake. â€œSvabol shinalta annyo thurkear?,â€ she grumbled quietly as she lifted her head up from the ground. Heliosâ€™ rays sifted through her hair making the platinum blonde strands glitter like white gold in the sunlight. â€œSvaklar mi si?â€ the dragon whispered softly to herself as her eyes scanned her surroundings. It ailed her that she could not remember what had happened the night prior. The only thing she could remember were the mountains; and the city a mile ahead of her was far from the scenery she had known and thrived in. It had been a long time since she had entered a city. Her dwindling species preferred to live far away from such urbanized areas. She came to the conclusion, that there was no other option left before her.

As she got to her feet she heard the annoying crinkle of parchment as long nails came up and snatched the message off her wet abdomen. The words were somewhat blurred from the dew and the ink had run onto her alabaster skin leaving quite the unappealing imprint. She read the note aloud.

â€œIr ui vi ogelend, Jaci sweekmonic ir relgra Ophelia.â€ The priestess tilted her head softly as she tried to decipher the meaning. She was not sure if it was a message intended for her, or something that was merely a remnant of her dinner during the gibbous moon much like a shoe or doll. Perhaps she had whipped this betrayer with her tail to tendorize his bones before consumption, or maybe it was Ophelia she had swallowed whole. She mused at the fact for quite a few moments.

The mortality of beings was something that had always fascinated her. Her species of dragon lived for an awfully long time as opposed to other breeds. Even when death began to approach there were always ways to stave it off and keep it at bay. She wondered what it must have been like hearing the heavy beating of onyx scaled wings of a creature much larger than your self; knowing that you had crossed into her territory and the penalty for doing so. What did it feel like consumed whole? To be chewed up by razor sharp teeth or shredded by sharpened claws? To know that you only had moments left before your short life ended in the belly of a dragon. Well, it didnâ€™t matter a good deal to her; she was the dragon. Still, it interested her.

Now, faced with this peculiar message she rolled it between her claw-like fingernails as she headed towards the city. She paid little attention to the people who passed her as long as attention was not drawn to her self. The slender woman walked along the streets with a careful eye to those around her, while her mind dwelled upon the prior night and the prior morning scenery. She attempted to piece together what exactly had occurred. It disturbed her, even after all her years, that she could not remember.

"I can fly." Carlos said, his mouth speaking and forming words before his mind had a moment to probably think up a sentence. He pushed open the door lightly before he felt an odd sensation at the coming of a cool wind. His body seemed to react to the statement, as if to prove Carlos' doubting mind. It felt odd for a moment, only because at the same time it felt striking familiar. He could feel his body shifting, as if part of him was pulling back and being pulled out at the same time. His height decressed but his eye-sight sharpened. His skin was replaced with dark and light brown feathers and legs ended in sharp talons.

Now Carlos was a hawk standing in the doorway of the mangled door. He turned his eyes to Maccus for a moment with a small screech in acknowledgement before taking off quite suddenly. The feeling was almost overwhelming to Carlos, mostly because he couldn't mentally remember having done this before, yet his body seemed to know it very well. A part of his mind literately was the hawk, that part of him understood how to keep his wings leveled, how hard to flap to maintain the speed and to glide. That part of him also noticed the sudden movement on the ground as a bush mouse scurried from the tree and reacted before Carlos could think, swooping down to try and catch what would be his hawk's dinner.

Unfortunately, Carlos couldn't catch the rodent fast enough, and nearly crashed into the bush. He lost hold of his hawk senses which resulted in his body shifting back to his human form. He rolled into the bush and back out onto the grass with a small groan. "Madre de Dios." Carlos grumbled, sitting up and picking leaves from his hair and looking around. "So much for graceful landings." He said, standing up slowly; aside from a few scraps and the feeling of a potential bruise or two, Carlos felt winded but otherwise fine.

---------------------

Maria smiled lightly, a bit started that Buyou woke up. She sat back a bit."My name is Maria." She explained with a polite nod. "Um, yes I'm a new friend I guess. I just got here...I think." she admitted with a small smile. "Oh you're in a hotel. I think Roxxie said it's the Golden Laurels...in someplace called The Fort." Maria said, though she didn't sound all that sure. As Buyou mentioned food, Maria chuckled. "I guess you're feeling much better. She said you weren't in that good of a condition." she murmured the last bit more to herself as she stood up to find a bowl and serve the raccoon some of the soup Roxxie had made. It was pretty good.

"Here." Maria said, coming back with a slightly steaming bowl and spoon. "Cuidado." she warned without thinking."Oh, um, careful. It's still a bit hot. Roxxie was cooking and she left the pot simmering to keep it warm I suppose." Maria said, her voice accented a bit, having to switch from one language to another. "And from what Roxxie told me...no one really remembers anything." Maria explained. "We wake up with a piece of paper like this, and just a few memories or no none at all." Maria said, pulling out the scrap of paper that she had to show Buyou.

Calvin smirked as he watched the Dragon come into view, raising his arms up so that he was hanging/holding onto the stop part of the door frame. An intentional effort to in displaying his broad chest and flexing without being obvious about it.

â€œMind the gun, though; this place makes you a little paranoid. Given your size I can see why you went unmolested.â€

â€œHmm...so that's then just a gun in your pocket huh? Happy to see me too...â€ he grins and winks, looking the dragon up and down. Lowering his arms he stepped into the lighthouse, looking around and saying in an absentminded fashion, â€œBeing unmolested is not really a good thing....given who may be doing the molestingâ€ he grins crossing his arms over his large chest. â€œI take it though that you are not in any position then in regards to this place?â€ he asked though he already knew the answer.

As the dragon's tail coiled about his leg Calvin brought his gaze back down to him, â€œCareful there you can't go too much higher without rubbing against somethingâ€ he chuckled and extended his hand, â€œI'm Calvin, or Cal, or Alex....though I have been known to be called God, yet that was in more of a spur of the moment type thingâ€ he winks, â€œYou though are free to call me stud and I will answer to that. Just for you thoughâ€ with a smile he nods about the tour option. â€œSure. Might as well see what this place is like, I woke up in a steak house for Pete's sake. Irony was not lost on me eitherâ€ he laughed a deep hearty and friendly laugh. â€œNow are you telling me that about your roommate before you don't want me to scare him? Or because you want me to?â€ he asked the dragon as he followed him on the tour of the lighthouse.

â€œYou flirt too well for your own good, Calvin. Actually, I like Cal, sounds more familiar. Iâ€™d love to get to know you better.â€ LeBlanc teased, proceeding up the stairs with his lazy stride. As they climbed, it would become apparent that the lighthouse was more modern than it looked, with plenty of computer hardware and wiring, and crates of military-labeled supplies.

â€œAs for my roommate, well, the poor hawk seems to get quite absorbed in his work. He probably wonâ€™t notice youâ€™re even here at first, so youâ€™ll probably happen to scare him whether you try or not. Donâ€™t get too off-put by his personality though, heâ€™s a sweetheart, just definitely a bit obsessive. The kidâ€™s got vision, and heâ€™s almost done with a map of what heâ€™s seen of the island.â€ LeBlanc continued, pushing open a heavy metal door with a grunt, revealing said red-shouldered hawk hunched over a sprawled map. â€œTaka, weâ€™ve got a newcomer here.â€

â€œOh, very good, just let meâ€¦ no, no thatâ€™s five degrees off center. Sorry, justâ€¦ no, Iâ€™ll redo this street-â€œ The hawk replied, furiously scratching away at the map in front of him.

â€œObsessive, like I said. So you woke up in a Steak restaurant? The thing that brings us here seems to have something of a sense of humor at times, whatever it is. Are you hungry or thirsty?â€ LeBlanc questioned before a light crash caught his attention and he caught sight of Taka with his back pressed up against his desk.

â€œThereâ€™s a minotaur in here. When did that happen?â€ the hawk asked shyly, looking rather intensely at LeBlanc, who merely looked back to Calvin.

â€œHeâ€™s with me, bird-brain. Calm down, go look outside or something before you get back to work, youâ€™ve barely slept.â€ LeBlanc responded, giving Calvin another glance over. â€œAgain, the poor birdâ€™s a genius, honestly, but sometimes he just astounds me with the things he can miss. To busy focusing on the details; heâ€™s got no sense of a big picture.â€

~~

Maccus landed with a heavy thud nearby, his broad wings spread after his slowed decent. â€œYou can fly, and you can crash. Seems weâ€™ve got that in common.â€ he commented with a chuckle. â€œYou alright?â€

â€œIâ€™d suggest taking to the skies again, but I think weâ€™re a little less conspicuous down here. Iâ€™m pretty sure I can beat down any door weâ€™d need to get through if something shows up.â€ the dragon reasoned. Honestly, we just need to head out, find a landmark, and figure out if thereâ€™s anyone around here who isnâ€™t out to kill us. I figure there has to be; no reason I can imagine for it to just be us two. Canâ€™t say anything here is familiar, though.â€

Maccus looked up at the towering buildings and caught a glimpse of someone looking over the edge before running off. So they werenâ€™t alone.

Hopefully, with any luck anyway, they wouldnâ€™t be followed.

~~

Maria, definitely Hispanic. Buyou was still fuzzy in the head, but he was pretty sure he didnâ€™t speak Spanish very well, if at all, really. Russian made sense, plenty of his thoughts were in Russian. When heâ€™d seen this girl, heâ€™d commented in his head that she was a pretty young woman in Russian, but angliiski came easily to him too. He smiled at her happily.

â€œI only really know Miss Roxxieâ€™s voice a little, da? I wasnâ€™t feeling good when she found me. I got hit in the head when I first started waking up, da?â€ he explained, graciously taking the food and sniffing at it, apparently finding it a pleasant prospect, but waiting for it to cool.

â€œWell, whereâ€™s Miss Roxxie gone? To find more people?â€ he asked, furrowing his brow a little. Buyou leaned back against the wall. â€œI still feel funny inside, da? My skin tingles and I feel cold in myâ€¦ whatâ€™s the word, erm, stomach, da? Different than when I woke up, but still not so good.â€

Carlos was rubbing the back of his head with one hand and pushing himself off the ground with the other. There were a few leaves and twigs that fell from his hair as he stratched his hair when Maccus came around. Looking up at the dragon, Carlos smirked at the comment."Apparently so." he muttered before pushing himself to stand.

"Yes, I'm fine. My hawk wanted to go after a field mouse but I wasn't quick enough." he explained, sighing and looking around as he dusted grass and dirt from his shirt and jeans. "I have no knowledge of this place." Carlos murmured in his accented English as he looked around. "Where do you suppose we go?" he questioned, glancing up at the slight movement. He frowned before glancing at the dragon. "Do you think there are others that mean us harm?" he asked curiously. "Like the horseman you ran into?"

--------------------

Maria listened and nodded to show Buyou that she was paying attention. "I'm not sure where Roxxie went. She said she needed to check on something and ask that I check on you." Maria said with a small smile. She glanced over her shoulder, her head tilting curiously as if she heard something again, but the moment quickly left Maria and she looked back at the small raccoon on the bed."So you don't remember much either?" she asked curiously, brushing a strand of hair from her face. She frowned a bit, hearing that he still wasn't feeling good.

"Well if you're still sick, eat slowly." Maria warned softly, not wanting to make the poor raccoon's illness any worse inadvertently.

Yosarin regretted stepping out of the safety â€“strange that a word like that would come to him considering he did not feel safe at all. It was the opposite, inside he felt terrified beneath his composed demeanor, puzzled by his memory loss, eyes darting everywhere in his daze. This place was hardly something he would consider safe; it was all new to him and he felt like some trapped animal thrown into some maze. A maze or one giant puzzle, either way he had to find the exit. He had to get out of this alive and it started with getting the hell out of here- of that room in which he had awoken. The hotel was just as neglected and brought to him a slightly discouraging sense that he did what he could to ignore as he pressed on. A few feet down the hall were the elevators, Yosarin pressed the call button but there was no response other than a loud sound. The elevators were down it seemed which meant he would have to find another way down to ground level.

Answers would come in time, perhaps, but right now he had to get out of this hotel, onto the streets.

Suddenly, something caught his attention and his gaze turned towards the fire escape stairs. Of course, the fire escape! If the power to the elevators was cut off, he should just use the stairs however, someone seemed to be ascending them. The fox snarled at the sound warily, eyes darting around, looking for a place to hide. Cowardice was not usually in his nature, but given the current situation it was better to be safe than sorry. Who knows just who or what could be lurking here. This place was too damned quietâ€¦ Quiet places were usually a bad sign and hell for all he knew this could very well play by the rules of some horror movie logic and at any moment someone wearing a gasmask toting an assault rifle could burst through that door serve him bullets for lunch or dinner, whatever time it was right now.

The only possible hiding spot that Yosarin noticed, or at least right this moment, was a small opening in one of the doors of one of the elevators. Strangely the opening was wide enough for him to fit through. Tentatively, he slipped his foot through to see if the elevator was on this floor before moving inside the dark box entirely. He could have sworn he felt it shudder slightly. Quietly, he waited for whoever was there to pass by. And quiet he was. Not even the sound of his own breathing could be heard and he remained as still as possible, pressed against the door, in the dark corner.

He reached down and pulled the dagger from his boot in case they did become curious and come in here. At least he could still recall how to defend himself in case he had to confront the threat outside of his hiding place. Not only how to defend himself, but interrogate as well. He wondered if he could get answers from whoever was out there. Maybe they knew where he was and how he could get out of here. Orâ€¦ were they trapped here, too, and were looking for signs of life to tell them they werenâ€™t alone? Either way, that being said, they were someone else, signs of life. He was sure he wasnâ€™t seen or heard with how quiet he was being but he didnâ€™t want to take chances.

Yosarin ever silently waited for the right moment, when the female had her back turned, and then came out of the safety of the elevator, dagger in hand. In one swift motion, he leaped at her and pinned her against the floor. â€œSurprise!â€

Cal smirked shrugging his shoulder though he doubted that the dragon saw the action as he was leading them up the stairs. â€œ I like that I flirt just perfectly fine for everyone's goodâ€ he said and thinking teasing was fair and good for all parties involved promptly gave the dragon a nice firm pinch on his ass. Delighting in the reaction he got, which made him chuckle, which turned into a rather hearty laugh.

When they reached the top he looked took in the room, taking note of the large map and the various crates of supplies that lied about. It looked like some refugee camp to be honest, a place where rebel forces were trying, in vain probably, to fight back against what it was that had brought them there.

So you woke up in a Steak restaurant? The thing that brings us here seems to have something of a sense of humor at times, whatever it is. Are you hungry or thirsty?â€

â€œYeah. I actually was rather, amused by the choice myselfâ€ his tone showing that he was anything but pleased with waking up a steak house. â€œUm...yeah I could go for a wat....â€

Though he could not finish his sentence before the hawk lurched from his chair and stared at him like, well like an elephant in the room. Cal waved giving his best, I promise to not eat or crush you smile, however one could accomplish that. Looking back to the flirty dragon, â€œI will take that water and perhaps an explanation as to what we all may be doing here?â€

The steady beat of a drum pounded in Edward's chest. Light's danced at the edges of his consciouscness and the smell of sweat and perfume mingled in the air. Someone nearby laughed, though he couldn't see who. The vague taste of scotch slithered across his tongue. Then it all began to fade, whirling into nothing.

His eyes snapped open and he gasped for breath, his body constricted by the tight space he was jammed into. All senses began to rush back to him as struggled in the rectangular space like a puppy in the grip of an eager child. "Dammit." he muttered, kicking his feet out with all the strength he could manage. The wall at his feet gave way slightly and broke off with a second kick. He heard it bounce across concrete as he shimmied out of the cramped space. The sudden bright light blinded him and sent him to his knees, his temples pounding. As his eyes adjusted he glanced around the room. It was dimly lit, an operating table in it's center, and walls lined with drawers. A morgue, he thought with a wry smile. Someone, somewhere has got a ****ing up sense of humor. He stood and reached into the drawer he'd climbed out of, pulling out his hat and placing it on his head. Stretching like a cat, he cracked the joints in his neck and back, rubbing out the stiffness in his muscles. He walked over to the table and emptied out the contents of his pockets. A pair of sunglasses, two stiletto knives that felt oddly comfortable in his hands, and a wallet with two pieces of paper in it. One was a business card for a nightclub. "Edward W. Wright." he said, reading the name under 'Owner'. He knew that was his name, but had no recollection of any night club. "Guess I own a night club." he said, unfolding the other paper. He frowned as he read it. DO NOT WALLOW IN MISTRUST ONE THAT WOULD RECRUIT YOU IS A MONSTER "Vague." he muttered. "I don't like vague things." Stuffing the papers back into his wallet, he deposited it into his inner coat pocket. He turned to the exit and walked out into a lobby. Outside, it was late into the night and the city streets were empty. A sudden chime startled him and he was surprised to find both stilettos in his hands, poised for combat. "Have a great night, and welcome, again, to Ivy City." said an omniscient voice he couldn't pinpoint. Slowly straightening up, he put his stilettos into his belt and flipped up the collar of his coat. "Foreboding," he said as he began to walk down the empty street. "Foreboding is the word I'm looking for."

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